he flame, and searching behind each roving-frame in his
walk, as though to assure himself that no one remained unsaved.

Coming to the last frame, he saw the fainting form of one of his
back-tenters, the very child whose ears he had so savagely pulled
but an hour before.

There she lay, with her pallid, pinched face across her arm, the
flames creeping towards her as though greedy to feed themselves on
her young life.

In an instant Amos stepped towards the child and raised her in his
arms, intending to return to the window and so seek escape. He was
too late, however; a wall of fire stretched across the room, and
he felt the floor yielding beneath his feet.

He was still calm and self-contained. He thought of Him who was
said to dwell in devouring flames, and was Himself a consuming
fire. He thought of the three Hebrew youths and the sevenfold-heated
furnace. He thought of the One who was the wall of fire to His
people, and he was not afraid.

On swept the blaze. In a few moments he knew the roof must follow
the fast-consuming floor. Still he was calm. He stepped on to one
of the stone sills to secure a moment's respite, and he cried in
an unfaltering voice, 'The Lord reigneth. Let His will be done.'

Frantic efforts were being made by the crowd below to recall Amos,
who had been seen to disappear from the window into the room. His
name was shouted in wild and entreating cries, and men reared
ladders, only to find them too short, while women threw up their
arms and fell fainting in excitement on the ground.

On swept the flame. Still Amos held his own on the stone ledge.
Grand was his demeanour--erect, despite his seventy years,
clasping with a death grip the fainting child. All around him was
smoke and mingling fire; but the Lord reigned--what He willed was
right; in Him was no darkness at all.

Suddenly he lifted his eyes, and saw above him a manhole that led
into the roof. In a moment he sprang along the frames, and passed
in with his burden, and beat his way through the slates which in
another minute were to fall in with the final collapse of the old
factory.

Creeping along the ridge, he made his way towards the great
chimney-shaft that ran up at one end of the building, and bidding
the girl, who by contact with the air was now conscious, cling to
his neck, the old man laid hold of the lightning-rod, and began
his dangerous descent to the ground.

But he knew no fear; there was no tremor in his muscle